


Couldn't Stand These Desert Nights (Without You)

by missred



Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Album), My Chemical Romance
Genre: Burns, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, M/M, Sickfic, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-26
Updated: 2015-10-26
Packaged: 2018-04-28 08:22:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5085364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missred/pseuds/missred
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Poison's kind of hell-bent on being the hero. Ghoul's kind of hell-bent on keeping Poison alive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Couldn't Stand These Desert Nights (Without You)

Poison always figured he’d die in the desert. It was something you had to accept before you went out there. The desert killed everything eventually.

“I’m gonna kill you.” Ghoul is muttering. He’s back in the diner, looking for the first aid stash that he already knows is not well enough equipped to deal with this. Poison is laid out on the counter up front because he’s an idiot. Okay, realistically, it’s because he took a shot to the chest from a drac trying to make sure the supplies they’d come for before the dracs had ambushed them didn’t get destroyed. It was important stuff, medicine, some food, blankets. None of it was worth dying for. Unless you were Poison, apparently. Ghoul was letting his pissed off internal monologue go because the alternative was complete panic, and that wasn’t going to help Poison right now. Maybe later.

Ghoul rushed back up to where he’d left Poison on the counter. He was breathing shallowly, eyes scrunched shut in pain. The shot had caught him in the sternum. Ghoul tapped his shoulder lightly and Poison opened his eyes.

“This is gonna hurt, you want something to bite?”

Poison shook his head grimly.

“I’m good.”

“Definitely not good.” Ghoul muttered, but he preps the gauze anyways.

He’d boiled the strips first, so they were clean, but there wasn’t much else he could do. Poison ground his teeth  and let out a pained huff when he pressed bandages over the burn.

“Sorry.” Ghoul whispered. “Sorry. Almost done.”

Ghoul was wrapping Poison’s chest to keep the bandage in place when Jet and the Kid came through the doors. He’d left them behind to finish the fight, and apparently it had gone well--Jet was clutching the box of supplies.

“How’s he doing?” Jet questioned quietly.

The Kid just stared, jaw clenched.

“I’m--awesome.” Poison panted.

Jet shook his head, joining Ghoul.

“You want help?”

Ghoul didn’t want to need to be doing this at all. He nodded.

Jet gently cradled Poison so his back was off the counter, allowing Ghoul to wrap the bandages tightly around his chest. With every hiss of pain Poison let out, the Kid crossed his arms more tightly.

“Sorry sorry sorrry” Ghoul mumurmed.

Once he’d gotten Poison’s chest wrapped, he secured the bandages with a safety pin. Poison let out his breath in a huff.

Taking this as a signal, the Kid strode forward and loomed above Poison.

“You had to be the hero, didn’t you?”

“We got the supplies didn’t we?” Poison shot back, defiant.   
“Yeah we also got a man down for the count.” Ghoul added before the Kid had a chance to.

Poison tried to shrug, and winced instead.

“We needed it.”

The Kid flinched. He stared a minute longer at the stark white bandages before walking out of the diner. He disappeared sometimes, after a fight. Poison tried not to take it personally. It was quiet for while. Poison turned his head to watch the sun set through the storefront windows. He focused on breathing shallowly.

“We need _you_.” Ghoul looked fierce and his words echoed in the empty room.

“I need you.” It was quieter, spoken more like an admission of guilt than a declaration of love, but Poison knew.

“I’m not going anywhere.” He breathed out.

“Damn right you aren’t.” Ghoul’s fingers were clutching his hand tight when he said it.

Poison heard “I love you” in the tight grip on his fingertips and exhaled. Turns out the desert couldn’t kill some things after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Super tiny prompt fill. I've never written Danger Days verse before.


End file.
